


gjálfrmarr

by Rigil_Kentauris



Series: fara heil ok vel [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Boat, Epistolary, Gen, Missing You, oceanic superstitions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-03-06 15:43:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13414428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rigil_Kentauris/pseuds/Rigil_Kentauris
Summary: Standing here in the middle of these waves, I cannot help but miss you, my love.





	gjálfrmarr

**Author's Note:**

> todays old norse word of the day means _ship; 'steed of the sea'!_ much happy  
>  complete with sweet rollover text for my conlanging moment at the end there  
> EDIT: AFSHGHJKSHJGFAHG FANART FANRRT FANART ([x](http://mint-stone-draws.tumblr.com/post/172580318003/standing-here-in-the-middle-of-these-waves-i))

If I’d said I loved you…

Would it have mattered?

I’m on the deck of the - well, I suppose I can't tell you the name. I stand here on the deck, though, and I cannot help but to think of you. The water is so, so blue today. It's the blue of a sky that has the backing of the whole night sky behind it, blue like joy, blue like sadness. Blue like small delicate glass bells with high notes ringing in some distant room just out of reach. It's beautiful, and brilliant gold on the soft tips of the waves that our ship creates as we move. Can you see why I am reminded of you? I begin to think this journey was a mistake, and yet…

There is something about the brisk consistency of wind, and the aching way the wood creaks. There's something about the oddly rhythmic sound of sailcloth snapping to when the sailors trim the lines. There is something about the pure open vacancy of a horizon that wraps all around us, around and around, everywhere with no end to the sun merging with the water. We're all alone out here. Out here, there is no one to hurt. The crew is neither Emblian nor Askran – they are of the sea, they say, in jest I believe, but their eyes reflect the same crystal white gold of the suntipped water. Sometimes, on this long journey, I think I could be at peace here. I could run away, and never look back. Run and sail and cast aside my blood for seawater salt. Certainly it would sting the less.

But…

There are the blue waves, Alfonse.

And there is the gold sun.

The colors of your hair playing out across my new free world would taunt me, for as long as I should live. The reed rushed sound of their motion reminding me that I have abandoned you, eloska.

So I go. I travel to this port I seek, and perhaps the man who knows of dragon books will be there. Perhaps he will, and I’ll learn his secrets, and he’ll free me, or I’ll free myself, and I’ll come home to you and we’ll sail together.

Oh, my love. Please don’t think I have forgotten. You haven’t a single sea leg, to hear Sharena tell of - no, to hear how she _told_ of it. But I know that despite your difficulty with balance, you don't get seasick, so I think...I think it would be nice to support you, instead of hurt you. I think I would like it. And I know, elos, that you’d like to lean on me as well.

I could be at peace. If...on such a day...if I say I love you then...I don’t think it will matter, in such a future. You will know, already.

But I’d enjoy saying it.

I love you.

Over and over, every time the sun blazes mirror bright against the sea. It’s setting now, and all the fiercer for it. No orange, no red, just a deeper and sharper gold refracting and compounding across the surface of every angle of every infinite wave on the surface of this sea. Oh, my love. I wish I could share this sunset with you. I wish I could share this journey with you.

One last thing, before the sailors send evil stares my way over the way I spectate – yes, I spectate, my love. I know. Quite unbelievable. I sat on the rail yesterday, whereupon they caught me, and set a cabin boy to teaching me how to make different knots. They said they wanted to keep up both out of trouble, but I suspect it was rather to keep us out of their way. He was a scruffy little sort, short blond hair, dirty and hacked off at the ends like Sharena’s the month her doll haircutting session went unsupervised. Exuberant and friendly like she was, too. Like she still is, I sincerely hope. I told him about you all – no names, of course – and he taught me a pattern for a lucky knot. It was a lumpy, coarse affair made of hemp rope, but he had one around his neck that was worn and frayed and was, according to him “the reason I’d come home to me ma every crossing.” And I couldn't help but think...

Well, were I a superstitious sort, I might be beginning to suspect I was cursed.

Ah, my love. I miss the way you smile when I make little sense.

But to the point, as the boatswain has noticed me, and will, I fear, begin ambling over soon.

The young man told me that a person should tie two knots from one rope, cut them apart, and send the knot to the one I sought to return to. And I could never send this missive to you, not now, but…

This water has me hopeful.

Perhaps I’ll be with you again one day. And all the things I’ve wanted to say to you, I’ll be able to say them.

So, I made you one. A lucky knot and a letter for my love. And perhaps tomorrow I shall fling them both into the sea and watch the letters fade and fail me, and then I’ll run away, but I think it far more likely that when I wake up tomorrow I shall still love you, and I shall still miss you, and I will place this little rope tie in an envelope and put it with the rest of the things I cannot send you.

I hope with all my heart that you are well, and smiling.

And, as always, please send my love and my apologies to Sharena and Commander Anna.

_frareikvel, eloska_


End file.
